


Remorse

by echoist



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-05
Updated: 2010-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-09 07:55:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoist/pseuds/echoist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A conversation between Shunsui and Juuishirou, set sometime after the Bount Arc (post episode 63).  No major spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remorse

        Captain Ukitake of the 13th Division sat on the wooden steps leading down from the squad house to the training ground, observing his troops over a steaming cup of tea. He could hear Kiyone bickering with Sentarō in the hallways behind him, but he suspected they could hear that in Seireitei as well. A familiar shuffle across the boards, a murmured “Thank you, thank you,” before a hand lightly clasped his shoulder.  
        “Oi, Jūshirō.”  
        Ukitake glanced up from the training exercises and smiled. “Kyōraku. Lovely day, isn’t it?”  
        The other captain nodded, settling in on the steps beside Ukitake. They watched the troops maneuver in companionable silence, the clash of sealed Zanpakuto a vibrant contrast to the flash and crackle of kidō. Kyōraku lowered the wide brim of his hat and leaned back against a column, pouring himself a small saucer of sake. He followed Jūshirō’s eyes observing the combatants on the field, saw them flicker back and forth with the movements of a single fighter. He sighed.  
        “You know, you’re going to have to get around to choosing a new lieutenant one of these days. You can’t keep doing everything yourself.”  
        Ukitake nodded, never taking his eyes off his target. “Kuchiki isn’t ready yet.”  
        “Oh, is that how it is?” Kyōraku asked, a slight smirk coloring his words.  
        “That’s how it is.”  
        Kyōraku gave a soft sigh that sounded more like a grunt. “You have plenty of other talented people in your squad. Who knows how long it will be before - “  
        “Less time than you think, I would imagine. I haven’t seen determination like hers since - well, a long time gone.” He coughed into a handkerchief, refilling his cup from a large teapot one step up.  
        “Jūshirō,” Kyōraku cautioned. “Willfulness isn’t always a desirable quality in a subordinate. She did violate the laws of Soul Society while dispatched to the living world.”  
        “I have faith in her.”  
        “I just think you should consider your options carefully.” Kyōraku shrugged. “You weren’t responsible for what happened to Shiba and it’s high time you-“  
        “Shunshui.” Ukitake slid his eyes off the field, barely turning his head to meet Kyōraku’s concerned gaze. The other captain held up a hand, acknowledging that he had said too much. “I don’t blame myself for Kaien’s death. But Kuchiki shouldn’t have been the one to…” He lowered his head, considering the cup of tea warming his hands.  
        “I was his captain. It was my responsibility.”  
        “That’s no reason to -“ Kyōraku ventured.  
        “No, it isn’t, and I will not be choosing my next lieutenant based on my own feelings of guilt or sympathy. Nor will I rush my decision, not for you, or anyone else.”  
        _Not for you._ Kyōraku heard the dismissal implicit in those words, and rose to leave. Jūshirō was right, it wasn’t his place to question how he ran his own squad. If he had one failing that he regretted above all others that informed his life, it was the inability to restrain his own meddling. It spoiled so many things, things that were never his to touch in the first place.  
        “Take care, Jūshirō.” Soft footsteps retreating, all other sounds fading away into the clash of steel, shouts of anger and triumph, and a gentle summer’s breeze rustling the leaves overhead. Ukitake could almost feel the lingering presence of a hand on his back, an arm that once would have wrapped around his shoulder in comfort and solidarity. Those days were long past, now, just leaves in the wind, and he had no choice but to walk the road ahead alone.  

8/09/2008 


End file.
